Whoa-oa-oa
Whoa-oa-oa
Whoa-oa-oa
Real homie, what's up?
[Verse 1]
I'm the f*ckin' man, y'all don't get it, do ya?
Type of money, everybody acting like they know ya
Go Uptown, New York City, bitch
Them Spanish girls love me like I'm Aventura
Tell Uncle Luke I'm out in Miami, too
Clubbing hard, fucking women, there ain't much to do
Wrist bling, got a condo up in Biscayne
Still getting brain from a thang, ain't shit changed
How you feel how you feel how you feel?
25, sitting on 25 mill
I'm in the building and I'm feeling myself
Rest in peace, Mac Dre, I'm-a do it for the Bay
Okay, getting paid, we'll holler whenever that stop
My team good, we don't really need a mascot
Tell Tune, "Light one, pass it like a relay"
YMCMB, you homies more YMCA
Me, Franny, and Mally Mall at the crib-o
Shout goes out to Niko, J and Chubbs, shouts to Gibbo
We got Santa Margherita by the liter
She know even if I'm f*cking with her, I don't really need her
That's how you feel, man? That's really how you feel?
Cause the pimpin ice cold, all these bitches wanna chill
I mean maybe she won't but then again maybe she will
I can almost guarantee she know the deal, real homie, what's up?
[Hook]
Now she want a photo, you already know, though
You only live once: that's the motto, homie, YOLO
And we bout it every day, every day, every day
Like we sittin on the bench, baby, we don't really play
Every day, every day, f*ck what anybody say
Can't see 'em cause the money in the way, real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Whoa-oa-oa
Whoa-oa-oa
Whoa-oa-oa
[Verse 2]
One...time? Fuck one time
I'm calling homies out like the umpire
Seven...grams in the blunt
Almost drowned in her (laughs) so I swam to her butt
It's Eastside, we in this bitch
Wish a homie would, like a tree in this bitch
And if a leaf fall put some weed in that bitch
That's my MO, add a B to that shit
I'm messed up, tore down
I'm twisted: door knob
Talk stupid? Off with your head!
Money talks, Mr. Ed
I'm so Young Money
Got a drum on the gun, Energizer bunny
Funny how honey ain't sweet like sugar
Ain't shit sweet? People on the street like hookers
I tongue kiss her other tongue
Skeet skeet skeet: water gun
Oh my God, Becky, look at her butt! Tunechi
[Hook]
Now she want a photo, you already know, though
You only live once: that's the motto, baby, YOLO
And we bout it every day, every day, every day
Like we sittin on the bench, baby, we don't really play
Every day, every day, f*ck what anybody say
Can't see 'em cause the money in the way, real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Now she want a photo, you already know, though
You only live once: that's the motto, baby, YOLO
And we bout it every day, every day, every day
Like we sittin on the bench, baby, we don't really play
Every day, every day, f*ck what anybody say
Can't see 'em cause the money in the way, real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
Real homie, what's up?
READ MORE ABOUT JON BELLION
